


Quantify

by GreyPezzola



Series: A Study in Synonyms [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Also actual trigger warnings, Domestic Violence, F/M, Other, Past Domestic Violence, basically the whole fucking cast is here, brief mention of torturous violence although not described in detail, discussion of body image and weight gain, imposter syndrome, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyPezzola/pseuds/GreyPezzola
Summary: Sigyn knows exactly what she is worth, she’s always known it. Her first memory is being branded to show just how little she is worth. But coming to the surface changes everything and she has no idea how she has managed to fool her party into thinking she's someone when she's so clearly only something.





	Quantify

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: implied use to torturous violence, discussion of body image and weight gain, and brief mentions of domestic violence.
> 
> That being said, all of these are as brief and as respectful as I could make them. The discussion of weight gain is not framed in a negative light. The brief mention of domestic violence is over quickly and please believe that I tried to make it true to lived experiences. 
> 
> Otherwise, this fic is roughly Sigyn vs Imposter Syndrome.

She knows exactly what she is worth, she’s always known it.Her first memory is of searing pain, being held down, and, when she tried to wriggle away, being slapped across her face on the fresh wound.She remembers falling silent after that and then being left on the ground by the smiths.She will never be certain how long she lay there with her newly branded cheek throbbing in the warm air, but she remembers small cool hands running up and down her arms and her sister’s voice calling, “Sigyn, Sigyn.”

She knows her value when two gruff brands come to her house and look them over.They like Rica, but to her, they ask “can you fight?”.And it doesn’t matter if she can, it doesn’t matter if she’s small, it only matters if she can be useful.Outside of that, she is no one.So she learns to fight, twisting and twirling blades until her hands are littered with small scars and blisters.

They get assigned to each other around when Rica bleeds for the first time.Sigyn is still too young to tell if she’ll be able to have a child, but she’s now just as tall as her sister and her dark hair is long enough to braid into a thick plait and put up in a bun.While Rica’s fertility means Beraht is now turning hopeful eyes on her, “Maybe there is a warrior who would want to fuck a blunt weapon”, he still tells them to work together. 

“Leske, she knows how to fight.Brosca, he knows how to steal.Make it work.” And then they are left to do just that.

“You know, I think that’s the closest he’s ever said I have actual skill,” Leske says in the uncomfortable silence that is growing between them.

“You’re a thief?” She raises an eyebrow.Leske smiles and it registers that his dark eyes are warm.There’s a light in them that she hasn’t seen in a long while, not since Rica came home shaking and cried the whole night.He twirls a dagger around his palm and just as she realizes it's hers, his grip slips and he cuts his thumb.“Don’t steal what you can’t hide or use." 

“Leske.” He holds the blade out to her.Sigyn takes it and sheathes it in a fluid movement. 

“Brosca, the younger,” she replies and then she smiles at him.Sigyn can’t remember the last time she smiled at someone who was not Rica and meant it.“How do we make this work?”

“One day at a time, one job after another.” he says and so they do just that.

Her value is contingent on two things: being useful and not being too goodThe thing is Sigyn and Leske are good.Too good.He can lift the keys or purse off of any unsuspecting dwarf and her work is efficient and brutal.They quickly gain a reputation within the Carta and Dust Town, but best of all, they are unknown to the higher castes.Rica and Sigyn have come to a relatively unspoken agreement that they will not tell the other what they do, despite the fact that while they don’t know details, they already know.

Beraht gives them a more difficult job.A smith has just gotten a new crate of gems and precious metals so soon there should be a new wealth of jewelry that people topside will pay good coin for, he tells them.“Make sure it can’t be traced back to us."

They case the place as best they can, wiping soot over their faces so their brands are hidden so they can pass through unnoticed.They set up a plan, a backup plan, and when the time comes it runs almost without a hitch.And they are good, even if Beraht won’t recognize it formally.

“Leske, have some pride.We earned this,” she says as she wiggles the small curved bar in front of his nose.

“This isn’t a good idea Brosca.” he says, but he looks torn.There are two of these curved bars of matching steel; while the jewelry is beautiful made they are without much extravagance so they probably won't fetch too good a price.“And you are supposed to earn these.”

She raises an eyebrow and glances down at the medium bag of gems, pendants, and rings that they’ve gotten.“We have.”

“If we put them in, people will notice.”

“Let them.And we can wait a while before putting them in.” she rolls her eyes, “We don’t have much time until they come here.Leske, we’re good.We earned these.Fuck Beraht if he thinks otherwise. 

He frowns, “Fine.”

So they palm a curved stud each and hand over the rest of the goods.

Beraht finds out of course.That is when she learns that while she is useful, she is also completely expendable.It is also when she learns that death is too kind a punishment for the Carta. 

She tries to not show pain, but when Beraht holds her hand and squeezes, a cry tears itself from her throat as he presses the bloody stump where her finger used to be.He then wraps his other hand around her braid and pulls her up, forcing her to look at Leske’s bruised and pallid face as he is being similarly held, forced to look at his handiwork.

“You do not claim Carta victories as your own, Brosca.” Beraht snarls as tears stream down her face.“You should be thankful your pride only cost you a finger, next time it will cost you a hand and then you won’t be useful.”

She can only cry through the throbbing pain.“Am I understood?” she nods.Yes, yes she knows she’s useful but not worth much to even the Carta.

“You should thank him for his leniency,” Jarvia says from behind Leske who cannot look away from the finger he was forced to remove from her.

She chokes out thanks and Beraht throws her to the ground.“Keep the rings, but never cross us again."

Sigyn cuts off her braid herself that night, despite the pain it causes to use her hand. 

It takes months for her to regain the level of skill she had had with her daggers.But the pain in her finger meant that when Nadezhda pierces her eyebrow and puts in the jewelry, it barely compares.She and Leske match, the same steel bar sitting under their right eyebrows.Sigyn feels as if working with the man who removed her finger should feel wrong, but what hurts more is how she notices that the warmth in his eyes has started to fade.

After her stump has healed and when she can once again trounce Leske with relative ease, she finds herself learning and relearning her value as she and Leske don’t quite fall into bed with each other, more they crash against each other.They crash against the walls in shady alleys, collapse together on roofs, collide in the forgotten corners of ruins, and sometimes they linger on the natural shelves of cave walls.There in those quiet, secluded, lingering moments, they aren’t Brosca and Leske, instead, they whisper their given names like the secret key to themselves that they are.‘Sigyn’ falling from his lips like a prayer when he comes makes it feel like it has worth outside of Brosca.

She’s never bled, so they never worry. 

But in the end, after their secret selves are so briefly shown, Brosca is worth more than Sigyn ever will.Any moment’s reprieve from the Carta and their roles only begin to hurt too much.They never discuss it and they see other people, but he’s the only one who has moaned her name like a blessing and she’s certain that she is the only one to cry his name like a curse.

Despite the gap of time in her healing, the gap in her fingers makes her a noticeable figure.What limited notoriety she may have earned beforehand is not lost.Dusters losing limbs isn’t anything new, but she now cuts a much more imposing figure with her eyebrow piercing and her missing finger.Brosca learns that tapping her three fingers against her arm or against a table makes those she has been sent to deal with quiver with fear. 

Brosca is worth more and worthless.One day she realizes she doesn’t actually know her worth.Her brand may mark her as nothing, her missing finger may mark her as dangerous and the Carta’s, but the Carta runs on different rules.

“It’s pride,” Leske warns.

“It’s not worth the fall,” her sister insists.

“Right or wrong, don’t,” says Nadezda, but Sigyn knows.It’s been years since she lost her finger and she’s only gained more trophies: a bar through her shell, a hoop through her conch, a whole set of gold rings down her other ear.The bars through her nipples had hurt, but they were as much Sigyn’s as Brosca’s.

But before she can truly prove that her worth is much more than not being too good, she is just that.She wins a proving and gets taught once again that she is not supposed to be so good.So when she wakes up in a cell with Leske next to her, she is surprised she still has both hands.But then again, she’s less useful if she can’t fight, although it is her fighting that got them here, or perhaps Beraht once again wants to make Leske reprise his role as butcher.

They’d talked about it just once in one of those quiet moments as they both cooled down after hands had wandered and wandered and wandered.She’d forgiven him, not that she thought there was much to forgive.They’d been punished in ways that fit their crimes — her pride and his willingness to follow.

“You got your picks?” she asks Leske who grins and draws a set from under his tongue.They sneak their way through the base and when they eventually make themselves known to Beraht, she proves her worth and just how good she can be.She cuts his throat and before she can claim her Carta, there are guards come to kill her.

Sigyn puts herself between them and Leske and while her words mean less than nothing to them, at least they focus on her.

Duncan finds use in her though, even as she looks at him with cold eyes.He saves her life, sure, but it’s not like a surface is exactly a haven.In all honesty, it’s not that much different from Orzammar.Yes, there’s trees and grass and the sky, the wide, open sky that she’s just waiting to fall into.But other than that, Duncan wants a blade and she’s good at being one.

When he comments that she is handling the surface and the sky better than the last dwarf he saw go to the surface for the first time she simply says, “My fear isn’t why you took me.”

Brosca is so sure of her worth and her value, that when he stops in his tracks and gives her an incredulous look, she meets it with even confusion, “You are here because you are good at what you do and they were going to kill you.Brosca, you can leave right now if that’s what you want.While I value your possible service, I wanted to save your life because it’s worth more.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to save my life?” She asks.

“Because I see some of myself in you.” It’s not the answer she is expecting.Duncan is someone, not something like she is.She doesn’t know how to tell him that she isn’t someone.

That night she speaks more words than she had said to him in the week of travel they had spent together.She asks him about everything, customs and standards, flowers and bushes, clouds and stars.

She was not made for this world where everything is too big and too bright, but it seems the world disagrees with her assessment.

At Ostagar, a harried man asks her for help with a dog that is almost as tall as she is.It’s an ask with no sense of mocking, he’s just a man who thinks she might soothe the beast as she looks nothing like his previous owner and maybe, just maybe, she can be a calming influence.

The dog clearly doesn’t know nugshit because it calms down for her touch and the kennel keeper looks like he might cry he is so grateful and can she just—

It’s almost a relief when, a week later, after she’s drunk darkspawn blood and lived, seen an entire army get slaughtered, been rescued by a legitimate dragon, and suddenly been put in charge of a petulant woman and a grieving man, that the dwarven man she’s helped rescue recoils from her when he sees her brand.She still offers to let them travel with them, despite the fact she knows the answer is “no, my son and I should be fine” before he gives it.It feels right to have someone see her for what she is as opposed to who she is only pretending to be for the sake of some semblance of a plan.

Leliana asks why he reacted in that way, but seeing they just met, Brosca merely shrugs and leaves it at that.So when later the two meet them on the road, the father looking positively relieved to have found them, she is surprised when he asks if he can change his answer.She nods and holds out her arm to him.To say Sigyn is shocked when he clasps it back in a firm shake would be an understatement.None of the humans have any grasp of the caste system so they don’t understand the significance of his touch and she has no desire to explain it to them.

However, living with fellow dwarva is rough.She knows so little of the surface world and the one person who might be able to understand just how lost she feels is the one person who knows exactly what she is.It doesn’t stop them from trying but there are little things.Their culture relies a bit more on touch than the surfacers and she can more than respect that Sandal doesn’t like touch, but Bodahn is being rude if he truly believes they are equal as surfacers.She knows he doesn’t truly believe that when he says it because he recoils ever so slightly when she gets near.

And, of course, when he says “I hired casteless thugs” when he describes just how he got his goods, Sigyn knows.He quickly catches himself, tries to apologize, but the harm is done. 

“I am a casteless thug.” Brosca leaves the conversation and returns to her tent.They don’t talk outside of formalities for a week.

She gains weight.Her skin also darkens in the constant sun, but her gaining weight is the most shocking part about being on the surface.She eats the least and she eats last, and it’s still more than she ever ate regularly in Orzammar.She gains weight. 

Beauty standards on the surface aren't too much different from those in Orzammar, but it is hard to look at her reflection in the water of a pond or bind her chest every morning knowing that she is slowly becoming more beautiful in the eyes of her society.The layer of fat she is gaining is a good thing, she’s always been too skinny for her kind although she was already broader than the other women in her party.It is indicative of health and she should feel beautiful, but her worth has never been based on beauty.

She remembers when Rica had started to gain weight after Behlen decided she was beautiful enough to become a noble hunter.Rica had never gone through clothes faster, but Behlen had been right.Once she had gotten the beautiful layer of fat that so many of the higher castes flaunted, Rica had become a vision to behold with pale stretch marks on her light skin.And Sigyn just can’t make herself feel the same about her own body.

She doesn’t want to be beautiful.

She wants to be secure in who she is.

It doesn’t help that she finds her name falling out of her mouth shortly thereafter.“It’s Sigyn,” she says, interrupting Alistair as he’s recounting what had happened in the forest to Sten who looks fairly unimpressed.The expression is an improvement to his usual disdain, but she doesn’t have time to focus on that because Alistair is suddenly smiling brilliantly.

“Sigyn?” he asks and Sigyn nods.Alistair repeats it a few more times as if to feel out her name on his tongue.“Siiiiigyn.”

“Yes Alistair, what of it?” she asks, regretting her decision to tell anyone especially him.

“Nothing.It’s just a pretty name.Almost as pretty as you.” she stutters at that and Sten returns to looking disdainful as they both blush.

It doesn’t stop though.Leliana touches her hair and compliments her and Sigyn forgets how to breathe.She self consciously tucks her hair behind her ear, she cuts it with a knife when it gets too long, although she hasn’t cut it since hitting the surface.And Leliana isn’t just being friendly, she too enjoys the company of women, but Sigyn’s never been beautiful.

Thankfully Sten remains staunchly unimpressed with her.If it wasn’t so obnoxious to have her decisions questioned, she could almost perversely enjoy his low opinion of her.But the problem is that his disrespect does not just extend to her, he also disregards Leliana and Morrigan and that is unacceptable.She snaps at him that she is not here to impress him because she isn’t.She’s here to stop a sodding blight.He nods and respects that answer more than anything else she’s said to him.And she has no idea how she has fooled them so.

Bodahn gives her a peace offering and it truly leaves her speechless.“I know you need these and I know you are too proud to ask.Please accept them.”

“How did you—?” she asks quietly.

“I’ve raised a growing boy, I know how to judge what sizes are needed.” She chuckles and she’s surprised that tears are threatening to fall.He pats her shoulder and smiles.

“Thank you,” she says and holds the bundle of clothes to her chest.They aren’t anything incredible, but they fit and it makes it a bit easier to live in her skin. 

Everything changes and everything gets easier and she grows more confused by the day.The sky, the birds, and the rain makes sense; dogs and wolves and bears make sense, but Alistair considering himself lucky just to have kissed her doesn’t.Leliana seeming honestly hurt that their flirtations went nowhere doesn’t.Sigyn almost makes the whole, strange situation worse with her urge to laugh at the absurdity of someone as beautiful as Leliana being disappointed that someone as lowly as herself wouldn’t further their relationship.

Stranger still, she talks to Bodahn and Sandal.Well, she tries to talk to Sandal, but it becomes very clear that talking is not his strong suit.“Why didn’t you teach him sign?” she asks Bodahn.

“I was a merchant, I didn’t know many silent sisters.” Bodahn says.“I did find him after I left for the surface.”

“Oh,” she bites her lip and considers her next words, “I could teach you both.”

“How do you know sign?” he asks.

Sigyn shrugs, “Carta.”

“Ah.” he looks confused at the answer.

“Talking makes noise, not the best for crime.” she supplies and Bodahn laughs.So Sigyn starts signing along with her words.She’s not the most fluent, but she knows enough to get main points across.Leske had had a sister who signed as she was born without a voice and Sigyn now regrets not spending more time talking to Leske and his sister with her hands.Sandal takes to sign quite well and while he doesn’t have much to say, it does expand his ability to communicate.Sigyn is even more surprised when Alistair sits down next to her one evening and asks to be taught as well.

Her camp of misfits look to her for direction.They care about her and so she tries, ancestor’s beards she tries, but she knows her bluff will be called the moment she steps into Orzammar.They’ll know exactly who she is, why she knows sign, and why she is the worst possible person to lead this group because she’s barely a person.

And it breaks her heart because her companions are earnest in their curiosity about Orzammar.Bodahn has described Orzammar and his city is so different from hers that she can understand the appeal of that Orzammar.But she’s gotten so comfortable with people treating her like she’s someone, not something.She’s fooled them, sure, but she doesn’t want them to—

No matter what she wants or does, they must go back.

Before they enter Orzammar she pulls Bodahn aside.“Can you look after these?”

“As flattered as I am, I’m not available.” he jokes as he takes her vambraces.She laughs as he slips one on, “But what do you think? Are they my style?”

“I think none of the surfacers are going to care if they match you or not.” she says but his smile is soft despite their joking.

“I’ll make sure they stay safe, but you need to promise me you’ll stay safe.” Sigyn nods and he touches her shoulder lightly.

She isn’t sure which is worse, how every dwarf watches her due to her brand or how Alistair and Wynne watch her.It’s out of concern, but she can only so much she can take.The Carta does not make her weak, the disregard from others is not new and does not make her any less strong, and while she doesn’t know how to talk about her family and Leske, she’s still the woman that has lead them so far.She wishes they didn’t know just what it meant for her to be a brand.

Despite her better judgment, she allows Oghren to travel with them in their expedition into the Deep Roads.She isn’t surprised when he doesn’t take her extended arm when she agrees to have him along.She can’t say Oghren starts off subtly.One of his first questions to her is “Why aren’t you a noble hunter? I know plenty who would appreciate your… charms.”

She glares at him as he looks over her body.“I bite,” she says flatly.

“Hardly see that being a problem.” he smiles lewdly.Alistair clears his throat quite loudly and Sigyn hates that it’s his warning that Oghren heeds.She is not Alistair's property and she can speak for herself.

After two days of steady travel and steady comments, she snaps.“You know darkspawn have an incredible sense of smell, any kind of bodily fluids lets them know where you are.Makes certain activities more thrilling, if you know what I mean.”It scandalizes her companions but she merely sighs.

“Right.” Without missing a beat, she hits him.She only has a few seconds advantage so she strikes hard and fast, not caring to give him any sort of fair fight.A kick between his legs, an elbow to his throat, his legs swept out from under him, and then, drawing both his arms behind him, she presses her dagger against his throat.

“Listen to me because I am only saying this once.” she hisses in his ear, “My name is Sigyn Brosca, Grey Warden, Provings Champion, and Carta thug.You will address me by my name with the respect my warden status demands or I will feed darkspawn flesh to you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he scoffs and she bashes his head against the rough floor.

“I beat the Provings with armor too big and weapons that were not mine the first time I tried.I’m just as good as you, ancestors be fucked.” she presses her dagger a bit more firmly against his throat and spits, “Have I made myself clear?”

There is a tense moment, but he eventually sags in defeat, “Yes.”

“Good.” she says firmly, “I’m going to let you up.Attack me and you’ll be dining on darkspawn.” She lets him up and sheathes her dagger.

The whole party barely speaks for the rest of the day.Alistair checks in with her before they sleep and she tiredly signs to him that she’s been through worse.He sighs and murmurs, “That’s was what I was worried about.”

She kisses him a bit less chastely than she otherwise would have for that and is relieved that the action garners no comment from Oghren.

He’s much better behaved for the rest of the journey.A comment will sometimes die on his tongue when she gives him a stern look.They make their ways through the deep roads without too much incident, aside from darkspawn and more deepstalkers than she ever wished to see in her entire life, until they meet Ruck.Wynne had promised his mother but Sigyn had never expected to find him.He does not want to be found and he orders them to go.

Sigyn holds up her hand to her party, loosens her stance, and talks.Her hands sign along as she slowly converses with him.She takes even slower steps towards him halting when he tenses until she is just in front of him.She holds her arm to him.Ruck looks at her brand and looks at her offer.

His skin is clamly and rougher than she was expecting.But they stand facing each other and he lowers his head.Despite his smell, she steps forward and rests her forehead against his.“I see you, salroka.”

He sniffles when they pull apart.

They talk and they trade and she can’t figure out why it hurts so much when he calls her pretty lady.She mentions his mother and he becomes agitated and Sigyn can’t.She promises to lie to his mother for him and when they are finished she holds him close and slides a dagger between his ribs.

She sits with him as he dies, cradling his head in her lap as she sings.Her voice fills and echoes through the caves until she can sing in harmony with herself.When his twisted form finally relaxes and the light leaves his eyes, she closes them and leaves.

Her companions are waiting here she left them.Oghren looks her over, but this time it feels like he’s seeing her as a someone, not a something.

“And that’s why her words were a threat,” Oghren says.“Dwarva are sometimes hearty enough to eat darkspawn flesh and live if you can call that living.”

She bathes in an underground river later that day.This far away from a lava flow, the water chills her to the bone.It is worth the chill to get the feeling of blood off of her hands even though she has scrubbed her hands thoroughly earlier.When Alistair sees her walk up, shivering and out of her armor, he opens his arms so she can crawl into his embrace and warm herself.Sigyn isn’t sure she deserves him, but she wants him, oh how she wants him, so she isn’t going to refuse his affections even if one day he will realize how little she is actually worth.

Oghren loves Paragon Branka and Sigyn will never understand why.She’s choking on her rage by the time they actually meet.She's never been glad she is casteless, but being invisible to Branka saves her from spitting at her.Every blighter Branka has made could have been saved.There is no reason for them.How many brood mothers had been made by her utter disregard? Shale may be a force of nature, but this search for the anvil can’t be worth it.

It isn’t worth it.

It could never be worth it.

“With a steady supply of casteless, we could drive the darkspawn out once and for all!” she’s saying and Sigyn can’t breathe.She’s been angry before, but she now understands what is meant when surfacers said seeing red.She inhales one, twice, her fingers dig into her palms.This is Ogren’s wife.She’s a paragon.She’s— “No one would miss them.”

Sigyn’s knocked an arrow and shot it through Branka’s shoulder before she has fully realized what she is doing.She’s closing the distance between them, grabbing the arrow that is now solidly lodged in Branka and twisting.

“Fuck you and your ancestors.” she spits, “No one is ever turning another dwarva into a golem.”

Branka goes to draw her weapon and Sigyn punches her.Her nose makes a satisfying crunch under her fist.“Not even brands like me.”

“Don’t you understand? You could finally not be a stain on our society.You could help dwarva survive.”

“I am.” she shoves her dagger through Branka’s neck.But Branka’s already raised her weapon, no not a weapon, a control rod.She chokes out the attack, the words sounding wet with blood.The room dissolves into chaos.Sigyn is shaking with rage and her hands are slick with Branka’s blood.

Somehow she manages to stand up and stumble away from the fight, avoiding getting engaged in it.She hauls herself up onto a tall rock.She doesn’t have her bow, she had dropped it when —

Branka is still watching her as she bleeds out.Eventually, the fighting stops and five golems and one dwarven woman, or six dwarva most of whom had been transformed into golems, lie on the ground.Caridin and one other golem still stand and Sigyn is still shaking.Wynne notices her first and makes a move towards her but Sigyn shakes her head.Breathing is still difficult.

“Your compassion puts me to shame, salroka.” Caridin is saying to her, oblivious to how every bone and organ in her body feels barely contained by her skin.“Is there any boon I can grant you?”

Wordlessly she gestures to Oghren and tries to keep her anger inside.He cannot bring Branka back, but he sets to work making a crown.Eventually, she is calm enough to slip down from her rock and pick up her bow.At Wynne’s questioning look, Sigyn signs the all clear, but her need for space.She sets to cleaning the blood off of her hands and face.When she can draw breath and not feel like she may explode, she crosses to Oghren.

“Sorry.”

“Ah, you did what you had to.” It’s not the reaction she was expecting.

“You lost Branka.”

“I lost her a long time ago,” he swallows and she inclines her head silently.“I’d rather not talk about…”

“I’ll leave you be.” She says simply.It almost feels wrong to leave him and then immediately to go Alistair and Wynne, but she trusts herself enough right now to be with them even though Sigyn still barely trusts herself to speak.

She taps Alistair on the wrist and he nods.“Wynne?” she manages to ask as she takes Alistair’s hand in her own.She sits between them as Caridin works on the crown.Wynne’s light pressure against her left side and Alistair’s sturdy bulk on her right helps ground her.

When all her fury settles and she is only left with exhaustion, she dozes off.She only surfaces briefly when Alistair moves her so she’s sitting between his legs.But he shushes her and presses a kiss to her temple, “Sleep, dear.”

Eventually, she wakes when Caridin’s hammering comes to a complete halt.She’s groggy and confused and when she yawns there is a chuckle in her ear.“Maker's breath, you are beautiful.” Alistair murmurs.She flushes and huffs.They are both worn from the past couple of days on the road and she knows she hardly looks her best.She can’t wait to go to the surface and take a bath.Sod it all, she misses the sky and her dog and too tall human beds that allow her to sleep with Alistair comfortably.She snuggles back into him for a moment and accepts the kiss he gives her.Then they detangle themselves and Sigyn walks to Caridin.

“I apologize, I forgot about sleep.” For being a golem easily two times as tall as her, he looks almost sheepish that his actions woke her up.

“It’s fine.This is it?” he holds out a crown for her and it's shockingly light for being made of gold.

“Yes, give it to whom you will.”

“And the anvil?” she asks sharply.

“Waits for you.Destroy it, please.”

She does.Nothing has felt that satisfying since coming back to Orzammar.By the time she had completely demolished it, she’s sore but she feels much lighter.Branka’s body still waits, but now that the anvil lies shattered she feels a bit less like she’s drowning.

Caridin looks at the rubble and then turns to her.“Atrast nal tunsha, salroka.”He bows to her and she inclines her head.

“Partha.” she returns.He falls and she turns.The crown sits on a rock next to Alistair and hollowly stares at her.

“What do we do with Branka?” she asks Oghren.

“Leave her.We’ll— sod it all, it would be easier to just say the stone took her,” he says gruffly.

“Then let's go,” she says evenly.The journey to Orzammar is a muted affair although after a few days the conversation picks up.They sit around a small fire high on a ledge where they had decided to rest when Oghren brings it up.

“This is going to sound bad but what if Branka was right about using the anvil?” he says.Wynne looks appalled and Alistair immediately checks Sigyn for her reaction.“There very little casteless are allowed to do.They could have…” He tapers off.

She finds she’s not angry, she’s more tired.Sigyn sighs, “If you want casteless to fight darkspawn, give us weapons.Allow us to help.” 

“But the ancestors—”

“Oh sod them.” she cuts across him, “Orzammar already relies on the Carta for certain surface goods and there are jobs only casteless are willing to do, why not make it official and let us redeem our ancestors.”

There is a moment of silence.“You are supporting the wrong candidate if that’s what you believe.” Oghren says, “I know nugshit about the dyshers, don’t care to anymore, but Behlen is more sympathetic to brands.”

Sigyn sighs and leans back against the cave wall, “Both wanted the Carta dead.They are both bad options for us.”

But crown Harrowmont she does.While she cannot say she actually supports the man, she knows that for the rest of his rule he will be looking over his shoulder, waiting for trouble the Carta.Sigyn is willing to let the Carta give him that trouble.

Her sister waits for her and then Sigyn doesn’t have a sister.She watches Rica leave and it is only her pride that keeps her from chasing after to beg her to take her back.She’ll take care of them or she’ll make sure house Aeducen will and if not them, Harrowmont.She just couldn’t, she won’t, she can’t see her mother.

She sees her mother.

Sigyn is trying to just leave the Diamond District.Just leave Orzammar.Just get away from all this.And there is her mother in the street walking towards her with a look of cold fury.She smells of alcohol, but her mind is clear enough to barge up to Sigyn and slap her.

“You are just like your father.Leaving for the sodding sky!” She grabs Sigyn by her hair and Sigyn can’t fight, can’t move, she’s frozen, she’s eight years old again, she’s scared.“I can understand fucking me over, but Rica? You sodding sky headed bitch!! What do y—”

Her mother is cut off. Alistair has pulled Sigyn back and is standing between them, but it’s Wynne who is speaking.“Do not talk to your daughter like that.”

“I’ll sodding talk to her how ever I damn well please.” but she’s at least lowered her voice.Sigyn wishes her brand actually made her invisible, Alistair has a hand against her chest ready to push her out of harm's way and physically fight her pathetic, terrifying wretch of a mother.

“Well then, we’re leaving.” Wynne retorts and when her mother makes to grab her again, there is a quick burst of electricity from Wynne and Alistair has tensed.Her mother yelps at the shock and withdraws her hand.She continues to shout, but Alistair has turned her back on her, laced his fingers through Sigyn’s so he can guide her out of the diamond district.

Sigyn wants nothing more than to leave right then and there, but there are Carta matters to address.They stay only two more days, it’s all she can stand, she promises Nadezda that she will return when she’s sorted out the surface side of Carta.Nadezda kisses her cheek and pats her on the shoulder. 

Just as they are about to leave through the large doors, there is a call.“Wait! Sod it all, wait!”

She’s surprised to see Oghren, he’s panting and dressed for travel.“Let me come with you.”

She looks him over, “You’ll lose your caste and your house.”

“What house? There’s nothing here worth staying for.” She gestures for him to follow.When they reach the doors to the outside, he freezes.She had as well her first time.She hangs back as Alistair and Wynne look up at the clear sky.“Give me a minute.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Just give me a sodding minute.” he snaps, “There’s so much sky…”

She nods, “It gets easier.”She crosses the threshold and holds out her arm, “Don’t have to do it alone, salroka.”

Sigyn is surprised when he scoffs and clasps her arm.He crosses onto the surface and he squeezes her forearm.“Looks like I’m finally as good as you, though maybe not seeing you're a bleeding warden and all.”he gripes, but he holds onto her as she takes a few steps back so he can take a few steps forward.Then he lets go and laughs incredulously.“Fuck a nug and call it an ancestor.”

Oghren has questions; Sigyn has answers.Unlike her, Oghren embraces his ignorance and asks every question he has to anyone who would listen.He doesn’t like the whole day and night thing and she’ll grant it takes some adjusting to, but by the time they reach their camp, he seems to have at least come to accept that the sky will change color regardless of if he wants it to or not.

They crest the small hill where their camp was nestled behind and she is immediately greeted with happy barking.The Lord of Farts bounds his way to her his butt wiggling in joy so much that he almost falls over.She laughs as he barrels her over and proceeds to lick every inch of her that he can.But then there is a cry from the camp and she nudges the Lord off of her so she can sit up.

“Maker be blessed! You’re back!” Leliana calls as she runs up the hill and catches Alistair in an energetic hug.He lifts her and swings her around in a circle before putting Leliana back down.She then gives Wynne a much more gentle embrace.Oghren is staring and Sigyn is still sitting on the ground with her dog who is huffing in her ear, feeling some emotion that she can’t quite name.

Leliana turns to her and helps Sigyn to her feet before hugging her as well.“It’s so good to see you,” she says and Sigyn just smiles and nods.Sigyn introduces her to Oghren as they make their way down the rest of the hill to the camp.

Just before she enters, Sigyn pauses.Everyone has gathered around the fire, even Sten looks almost happy to see their return.The Lord of Farts runs over to Alistair to say hello to his favorite human and she’s left alone just on the edge of the camp.

They missed them.

They missed her.

She’s once again frozen, but then there’s another call.

“There’s our girl!” Bodahn says to Sandal as they come up to her.“When Shale came back and said deep roads, we were very worried.” Bodahn cups her cheeks and she presses her forehead against his.

“But you’re back now,” Bodahn says as he rubs a thumb over her branded cheek.Sigyn closes her eyes, willing the lump in her throat to go away.He pulls away, “Aw, love, you’re alright.”

She’s crying.The tears she'd been holding since the anvil, if not earlier, finally escaping her.Bodahn embraces her as she sobs and says comforting nothings.Even Sandal reaches out a hand and pats her once.When she is only sniffling, Bodahn smiles at here.“We’re glad to have you home.”

“Glad to be home,” she says shakily.Sandal claps twice signaling his agreement.

“Oh right, I have your bracers.I cannot say I met any beautiful women, so why don’t you take them back.” she chuckles waterily and nods.

“There’s our girl,” Bodahn says again and pats her on the cheek.“Now why don’t you go introduce that new dwarf to everyone”She nods.

She does just that, greets everyone and introduces Oghren.Zevran promises to cook dinner, “You are in luck, my dear warden, our Qunari friend managed to kill a deer.I’ll make it something special, antivan, not like fereldan sludge.”Alistair protests, defending his country's food, and her heart aches at the easy familiarity of being in camp. 

She’s able to bathe in a cool stream a bit down from camp and wipe away the grime of Orzammar.Later she’ll have an actual bath, but for now, she can sit in the cool water and take down the braids she’d only put up for Orzammar.Sigyn combs her fingers through her dark hair, it reaches her shoulders now and maybe she’ll cut it in the morning.But then again, maybe she won’t.She does have rather lovely thick hair.

She’s still not sure what she’s worth, but her companions appear to think the world of her.So when she comes back to camp wearing a borrowed shirt of Sten’s as all her clothes are filthy from the deep roads, all she can do is smile and enjoy their shared meal as they exchange stories, good and bad.She’s someone to these people, not just something, and for what it’s worth, it means the world to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay notes:
> 
> \- Eligible dwarven men will wear vambraces to mark that they are eligible. I expanded that to just dwarva in general because I really like the fact that Sigyn is marking, at least to her society, that she's with someone (Alistair).  
> \- While we're at it, I love the notion of more touchy-feely dwarves. Like you don't shake hands, you do the arm grab thing. You don't just hug your friends, you cup their faces and press foreheads together. It's a cultural thing and it probably weirds the hell out of surfacers.  
> \- Having a healthy relationship with one's body is very complicated. I really wish I could have gone into more detail about Sigyn and the weight gain thing, but as someone in recovery from an ED, even writing that much was very hard.  
> \- I wrote this for dwarf appreciation week but then it kinda grew out of control. That's why I basically tried to have every dwarf that is important to Brosca included.  
> \- I actually love the potential relationships between Bodahn and Sandal and Brosca. Like, there's such potential for a real like familial bond to grow after some time.  
> \- Sigyn does emotions. Brosca does logic. As time goes on through the story, Sigyn becomes more comfortable letting go the hard shell.  
> \- I totally accidentally led on Leliana which I still feel bad about and also polyamory please Bioware!  
> \- "Partha" means peace according to the wiki. I'm... so there for dwarva still being spoken in certain communities.
> 
> I think that's about it. This used up like all but 5 pages in a notebook I had so that is pretty fun. Otherwise, I'm saying fuck it and posting this.
> 
> As always:  
> While I have edited this and read this over a few times, there may be errors as I have dysgraphia.


End file.
